


penchant

by Wahmenitu



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: College era, Food, M/M, and matt's relationship with it, as usual, foggy being the best, let them be happy, matt and his senses, soft bois
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:21:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24727411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wahmenitu/pseuds/Wahmenitu
Summary: Weeks later, Foggy bailed on Marci's second invitation for sushi and instead opened a small notebook at his desk.'Foods Matt Murdock Likes' he wrote at the top, before sitting back, tapping the eraser of his pencil against his chin.He was gonna graduate magna cum laude, he could figure this out.
Relationships: Matt Murdock/Franklin "Foggy" Nelson
Comments: 31
Kudos: 246





	penchant

**Author's Note:**

> have some soft bois

Foggy Nelson was going to graduate and become a kick ass lawyer and nothing was going to fuck with that future he had laid out.

Nothing.

At least, nothing was going to fuck with that future until his blind roommate tapped his way in and hit him with that killer smile.

From there, the future had been adjusted.

Not changed.

Adjusted.

Burying himself in books became building a fort out of them for himself and Matt. Late nights with ramen now came with companionship and passing a bottle of whatever shitty liquor they could get their hands on back and forth.

And gradually the space between them on their shitty couch shrunk more and more until Matt was across Foggy's lap and Foggy's hand was in his hair.

Nelson, Attorney at Law, became Nelson and Murdock.

And Foggy found his best friend and the love of his fuckin' life, man. Like they did _not_ make them like Matt Murdock anywhere else in the world.

Matt was sweet and soft and shy but hard in all the right places. He laughed the first time Foggy pulled his shirt over his head and was immediately assaulted with Foggy's cold hands on his abs.

"Dude, what the hell?"

"I box?" was the only explanation Matt had offered before his laughter was being muffled with kisses.

Sometimes Matt would get overwhelmed, and Foggy would get him back to the apartment and layer soft things on him and tip toe around.

He knew things were better when Matt would waddle towards him, wrapped in a comforter and hold his arms out like a bat, trapping Foggy in the blanket with him.

The hardest things for Matt, though, seemed to be food.

He was really, really weird about food.

One time, Foggy had gone out to get sushi with Marci and a few of her other friends, and when he'd returned home, Matt's nose had wrinkled after Foggy had kissed him.

"Wasabi?" Matt had asked, his head cocked like a puppy and his eyes focused somewhere near Foggy's neck.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry- I can brush my teeth?"

"No, no, it's- don't do that. It's fine. I'm fine," Matt had assured hurriedly. Always, always, always trying to smooth things over. He hated making any comments about whether or not he liked something if Foggy asked. He never complained about noise that Foggy made, about people Foggy brought around. And anytime he slipped up, he freaked.

When his mom had seen it, her brow had furrowed in concern.

"That's something you learn, Franklin," she'd murmured, and he'd felt acid in his stomach.

Someone had beat that behavior into Matt.

Foggy didn't consider himself a violent kind of guy, but he knew his way around a baseball bat.

Just saying.

"It's okay, Matty," he laughed, smoothing a hand down Matt's back. The tension seemed to pull right out of Matt's shoulders with the movement, and he smiled. "No kisses, we'll watch a movie instead, okay? Something with a good ass soundtrack."

"Okay," Matt had agreed, obviously pleased.

There had been one other time, too. Foggy had brought home a few boxes of jello mix that his mom had pawned off on him and immediately forgot about them.

It was only when Marci had coaxed him and Matt into attending one of her parties that he remembered that he'd had them and could bring offerings of jello shots. Jello shots were his and Marci's shit. And the boxes were just? Gone?

He remembered frowning at the cabinets.

He definitely hadn't thrown them away, because they didn't throw shit away until they had to. College students and all.

He'd finally found them, buried at the back of one of the cabinets, shielded by all of their cans of soup and several cans of green beans. Which like, weird? _He_ definitely hadn't put them there.

Matt was still out, and by the time he returned, Foggy was well into his project and had already forgotten where the boxes had been buried. It was only later at the party that Foggy remembered to ask. "Hey, man, did you hide the jello from me?" he'd asked, turning to Matt with the small plastic cup in his hand, Marci holding a matching one and arching one perfect eyebrow in question.

Matt blinked, his hands doing a weird little spasm on his cane. "I didn't- I mean. I didn't hide them. I just- you don't mind the smell?" he'd asked, his nose wrinkled and his brow furrowed. It was all Foggy could do to stop himself from kissing him right there.

"Never noticed," Foggy had admitted, before tipping it back.

Again, weird. But there was music and Marci pulling his arm and Matt laughing and he pushed the jello issue from his mind.

Weeks later, Foggy bailed on Marci's second invitation for sushi and instead opened a small notebook at his desk.

**'Foods Matt Murdock Likes'** he wrote at the top, before sitting back, tapping the eraser of his pencil against his chin.

He was gonna graduate magna cum laude, he could figure this out.

**1\. Cinnamon**

They'd walked into Foggy's mom's house and Matt had gone rigid.

Spine straight, fists clenched around his cane. He lifted his head, tipping it slowly.

"Is that cinnamon?" he'd asked.

"Yeah, dude. Mom likes making those crumble cake things."

Matt. was. stoked.

"D'you think it's for us? I mean- if we can have some? If she made it for someone else, I understand-"

Foggy laughed, wrapping an arm around Matt's waist and pulling him into his side. "Yes, Matty, I think we can have some. I didn't know you liked cinnamon so much," he'd murmured. Matt tipped his head, fluffy hair tickling Foggy's nose as he pressed his head against Foggy's shoulder. A dreamy expression crossed his face, unfocused eyes turned towards the ceiling.

"Every Saturday morning, my dad made those cinnamon buns. Just the ones you get in the can at the store. But it was every Saturday, no matter what. Even if he had to scrape on a few other things, we always had those in our fridge for Saturday morning," he murmured, and Foggy brought his other arm up to wrap around Matt more firmly.

"That sounds really nice, Matt," he murmured, pressing his cheek to the top of Matt's head.

So cinnamon went on the list.

**2\. Dill**

Foggy had come home to a lot of weird scenarios.

There had been that one time that he'd walked in on Marci with scissors to Matt's throat, threatening to end him if he didn't sit fucking still.

He'd tried his best to look her dead in the eye and wiggled in his chair.

There had been the time where he'd found Matt half hanging out the window, straining to hear something he _insisted_ sounded like Godzilla.

And now there was this.

Matt Murdock passed out on his desk, with a jar of pickles open beside him.

Huh.

He hadn't said much about it, just sealed the jar, returned it to the fridge, and coaxed Matt to bed with him.

But with Matt tossing and grumbling at his side as he tried to get comfortable, Foggy made a mental note to test his new theory.

Then Matt threw the blanket off and swung a leg over Foggy's hips, and he pretty quickly left that train of thought.

Later, though, he found the crackers.

The box advertised them as seasoned with salt and dill, and he took them to the counter to pay for them.

When he returned home, he could see Matt's sock feet hanging over the arm of the couch. He sat up at the rustle of the plastic grocery bag, his hair sticking up and ruffled. He'd been having a nap, apparently.

"I thought we were making dinner tonight?" he asked as he stood and shuffled over.

"We are. Got a snack- I thought you might like it," Foggy explained, taking Matt's hand and guiding it to the box.

"What are they?"

"Try 'em and find out."

Matt obeyed, sliding a finger under the edge of the box flap and tearing it open, drawing out the plastic sleeve inside and tearing it open at the seam. He paused when Foggy figured he probably smelled it. "Dill?"

"Crackers, yeah. Seasoned."

Matt brought one to his mouth, taking a tiny bite.

"Foggy."

"No good?"

" _Foggy._ "

"Okay, so good?"

"So good, Foggy. Holy shit," Matt reached for his face. Foggy laughed as he took his wrists to help guide them to his cheeks. Matt scooted until their foreheads were touching and he was more or less looking into Foggy's eyes.

"I would kill for you and these crackers," he spoke, so seriously Foggy nearly shivered.

Instead, he laughed and wrapped a hand around the back of Matt's neck to pull him into a kiss.

"Noted. All anniversary presents will now include dill crackers."

" _So good, Foggy,_ " Matt repeated as he shuffled his way back to the couch, cradling his new sleeve of crackers tenderly.

**3\. Carrots**

Foggy didn't have to work super hard for this one.

Despite their shitty take out and general poor-college-student diet, Matt veered towards the healthy where he could help it. He was one of those freaks that genuinely liked and enjoyed salads. There was a place near their internship that built them in-store and chopped them up with a pizza cutter in a big metal bowl for you. Matt loved it. Foggy didn't usually accompany him, but they usually veered off and then came back together for lunch.

Matt loved his salads.

He especially loved the carrots.

At first, Foggy had thought the salad place had gone a little heavy on the orange shreds by accident. When Matt continued to come back with salads looking more orange than green, he got a little pissed. Were they a cheaper ingredient or something? Were they trying to cheat the blind guy?

The next afternoon, Foggy stood at the same time Matt did and announced he wanted to try this place Matt was soooo fond of.

Matt had tilted his head, adorably confused, but held his hand out for Foggy, settling it in the crook of his arm. "Sure, Fogs. It's just a couple of blocks over," he'd replied, and they'd set off.

"Hi, Matt," a cheery woman behind the counter greeted him when he walked in. She was a little older, wrinkled around the eyes and with gray in her hair. She didn't _look_ like a horrible, blind-person-cheating salad maker, but you never know.

"Hi, Estelle. This is Foggy, my boyfriend. We're both getting lunch today," he explained as he approached the counter.

"Sure thing! Extra carrots?"

"Please," Matt smiled.

Fucking of course.

Now Foggy had all this righteous anger and nowhere to put it.

"Foggy?" Matt asked, turned in his direction when he realized Foggy hadn't followed him.

"Coming. Just admiring the selection," he soothed, his hand finding Matt's hip as Matt smiled and dipped his head in a nod.

**4\. Kit Kats. Dark Chocolate ONLY.**

So Matt had a thing for chocolate.

Foggy had noticed this in their year together.

But he was very, _very_ picky about the kind.

Reeses weren't his thing. He said they were too sweet.

Oreos were okay, but he would only nibble his way through one or two before he decided that that was plenty.

Any candy bar with more than three ingredients was a no-go.

He hated anything with caramel with a passion. He said it tasted burnt.

Foggy broke his kit-kat in half and handed Matt a stick. Matt had accepted, and shrugged his shoulders.

"Not bad. Kind of sweet," was his declaration.

Which had been enough of a response to pique Foggy's interest.

He went to the bodega down the street from their internship the next day and scoured the shelves. Dark chocolate kit-kats were not super popular, apparently, because the box was still full when Foggy found it.

He grabbed a couple. If Matt really hated them, he could pawn it off on Marci or someone else. Call it a pre-graduation gift.

"What's that?" Matt asked when Foggy tore it open at his desk.

"Kit-Kat," Foggy replied, and bit his lip at Matt's wrinkled nose. He'd picked up his pen again by the time Foggy broke off a stick and held it out to him. "No thanks," he'd said, dismissive when Foggy poked a knuckle with the candy.

"Matty."  
  


"I'm good, Fogs, really."

"Trust me," he'd said. The magic words.

Matt was smiling when he took the candy.

He paused mid-chew.

"I thought you said this was a kit-kat," he spoke after swallowing.

"It is," Foggy leaned back, satisfied. "It's dark chocolate."

"They make those?"

"Mmhmm."

"Wow," Matt replied, finishing the bar and leaning back. "I- yeah. I really like these," he admitted.

Fucking.

Finally.

Verbal confirmation.

Call the priests, it was a goddamn miracle.

Matt twisted his head towards the door before standing and walking over, leaning down to press a kiss to Foggy's shoulder, and then his cheek.

"Thank you, Foggy.”

Dark chocolate kit-kats were going on the list. Underlined.

Maybe even starred.

Matt was picky as hell, and only years later would Foggy find out why.

He hated anything spicier than a red pepper. It fucked with his senses, he told Foggy later. Jalapeno got in his nose and fucked him up for the rest of the day.

Gummy candies were horrible. Things abandoned by God that belonged in dumpsters, several blocks away from their apartment, preferably.

Cinnamon was allowed, as was vanilla extract. Foggy put a capful in the oven as a treat one day and had been treated to lazy kisses and many cuddles.

Dill, rosemary, and sage were good.

Cilantro was hated with a passion. Its name was not allowed to be spoken.

Matt's favorite, favorite place in the world, though, was crammed up against the back of the couch with Foggy at his side and his nose buried in his neck. He said it was different, that all people smelled different no matter what perfume they wore or what shampoo they used. He said that Foggy was his favorite, and that he'd give up every other scent if Foggy kept running his hand through his hair like that.

Matt was maybe a little loopy off of some painkillers Claire had left them, but the sentiment was sweet all the same.

**Author's Note:**

> please review, comment, enjoy the things that you enjoy
> 
> wahmenitu.tumblr.com


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